Staying The Night
by sunbeams
Summary: Tonks stays the night in Hermione's room at 12 Grimmauld Place. - tonks/hermione - post gof.
1. Curious

Hermione jumped as she heard something crash downstairs. The fact that Tonks' name had already been spinning round her head was irrelevant – only Tonks could drop three plates in a row. Hermione sighed, her head in her hands.

She had known her little more than an hour, and already Hermione was quite comfortable in the fact that Tonks was exceptionally clumsy. Not to mention that she had sifted through all her clothes, books and the first three pages of her diary. There she stood, fingers brushing the edge of the page, wondering, should I?

'Hermione?' She withdrew her hand from the little purple book that rested on the side table, and looked round. Her eyes looked over-large as if they had been injected with guilt. Ron stared back at her, suspiciously.

'What are you doing?' he asked, eyes narrowed. Hermione blushed a little.

'Nothing. I was just thinking.'

'Oh. Well, Mum says dinner's ready.' He turned and left, leaving Hermione alone with the little book behind her, burning her back as if it were alight. She shot a fleeting look back at it before following.

She ended up a seat away from the violet-haired woman she so longed to talk to, separated from her only by Lupin, who, it seemed, was far more interested in Tonks than Hermione. Ron sat on her left, shovelling potatoes onto his plate with more enthusiasm than he had ever shown for spell-casting. Hermione pushed peas around her plate in a circle, her eyes on Ron but her ears on the conversation Tonks and Lupin were having beside her.

'No, the Goblin Rebellion led by Urdwin the Unexpected was in 1455!' Lupin exclaimed.

'It was not! The 1455 rebellion was where they kidnapped the minister's wife and tried to burn her, only she freed herself, killed off seven goblins before being imprisoned in Azkaban for the use of an Unforgivable curse!' Tonks retaliated.

'That was not 1455, that was 1467! Everyone knows that!' Lupin said, jokingly slapping her head.

They paused.

'Um, no, actually, Tonks is right, that was 1455. Urdwin the Unexpected led the 1628 rebellion.'

Silence followed Hermione's words. Colour flooded her cheeks as she turned back to her food. Suddenly the sound of conversation returned as Tonks laughed at Lupin's mistake, shooting Hermione a smile. Hermione searched for an adjective to put before 'smile' but couldn't put her finger on one. A friendly smile? Grateful? Surprised?

It was only later she got it.

Curious.

* * *

**A/N – This is my attempt at both a long fanfiction and a totally new pairing. Please tell me what you think and whether I should bother continuing? Thank you!**


	2. Falling

As soon as dinner was over, Hermione left the table somewhat abruptly.

'Hermione!' Ron called from the bottom of the stairs.

'What?'

'Do you want a game of exploding snap?'

'Ask the twins.' She sighed as she turned into her room, slammed the door and collapsed onto her bed.

Hermione stared at the ceiling, worrying about Harry, about the things Harry had told her right before he went back to the Dursleys. She raked her fingers through her hair anxiously. There was really nothing she could do about that now.

She looked up, and Ginny was standing in the doorway.

'Er... 'Mione? Are you okay?' Ginny looked genuinely concerned. It took Hermione a moment to pull herself together.

'Oh. Yeah. Fine. I was just, you know, thinking.' Her smile was reassuring but beneath it guilt was seeping through her teeth. Ginny looked relieved.

'Okay, well, I have to go, Mum wants me to help with the dishes.' She said, rolling her eyes.

'Ginerva! Get down here at once! These dishes won't wash themselves!' Mrs Weasley screamed.

'Coming!' Ginny called as she dashed back down the stairs.

A sudden crash and the sound of Ginny shrieking made Hermione rush to the top of the stairs. Tonks and Ginny lay at the bottom, clearly having collided as they went their separate ways. Hermione rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly before rushing down to them.

'Ginny? Are you okay?'

'Yeah,' she gasped. 'Fine, but I think she took most of the fall.' Ginny gestured towards Tonks. Hermione helped Ginny up before turning to the purple-haired witch who lay, still as death, beside her. She grabbed Tonks' hand.

'Tonks? Can you hear me?' She heard footsteps on the stairs. Hermione prayed that she would be able to do this right. 'Ennervate.' She whispered into Tonks' ear as she pointed her wand at her neck.

Tonks' eyes opened with a jolt, as she tried to take in the staircase looming in front of her, the shaking red-head to her left and the girl above her who had taken her hand and had a wand pointing at her neck. A blur of crimson hair and pale skin came back to her, as she struggled to remember how she got here.

Behind Hermione, Mrs Weasley shrieked.

'Ginny! Oh my god!' She took her daughter in her arms before casting healing charms on her various cuts and bruises. Sirius and Lupin stood behind her, looking rather uncomfortable.

Hermione helped Tonks up onto the step behind her, where she sat, shaking. Lupin coughed and walked over to her, taking a seat on the stair beside her, and putting an arm around her shoulders. Hermione felt a little twinge of jealousy. She sought an explanation.

Lupin had taken her role. That was it. The flicker of green in her eyes was nothing to do with seeing Tonks and Ginny lying entangled at the bottom of the stairs, nor was it to do with Lupin's arm around Tonks. Definitely not.

It took Hermione a second to realize that everything hadn't gone silent. She felt lost, and she didn't know why.


	3. Surprised

It was just getting dark when Hermione retreated back to her room. Having spent the last few hours alternating between Ron and Ginny's rooms, she was pretty tired of nodding and smiling as she listened to Ron complaining or Ginny gabbling about Tom or Marcus or something. Perhaps that should be 'half-listening', as she couldn't quite remember what either of the two Weasleys had said to her.

She wasn't really thinking about anything in particular. Thoughts flitted through her mind insubstantially and she was only half-listening to them as they sang in her brain anyway. The rosy ones were comfortable; the cold ones stabbed her like shards of a mirror. As that thought scratched her ribcage, she forced another out of her mind - _mirrors tell the truth_.

The door opened and a woman wandered in. Well, she more tripped in – it was Tonks after all. Hermione looked up from the floor with a blank expression on her face. She was never one to believe that whole 'eyes are the window to the soul' rubbish, and her eyes gave away nothing of the whirlwind of thoughts behind them.

'Are you okay?' she asked as Tonks steadied herself.

'Oh, yeah, sure. I'm always doing that.' Tonks replied in an unusually flustered manner. Maybe it was the fall earlier. Hermione smiled at her, as the atmosphere in the room shifted madly - a brutally abrasive boulder fell into the river at its feet.

'I did notice.'

Hermione twisted a strand of hair around her finger awkwardly, not really knowing what to say to this strange woman by whom she was so intrigued. Tonks blinked suddenly, as if jerked from a dream and then turned to rustle in the bag which Hermione had sifted through earlier, having fallen prey to her curiosity. She turned to Hermione.

'Um... would you mind not looking?' she said, a sort of anxious smile half stuck on her face. Hermione shook herself from her thoughts again.

'Oh, sorry, sure.' She sat on her bed and turned to face the wall as Tonks changed behind her back. Inside, she shivered. She forced herself to focus on the wall, on every little indent and rise in that cream coloured wall. _I know it like I know myself_ she thought. Then she stopped. The thought that ran through her mind next was both screaming and predicable. _But I don't know myself._

Tonks coughed.

'You can turn round now.' Hermione fell back into reality's spindly, shaking arms and she felt like they would crack beneath her weight. She turned back to face the only person who had ever made her doubt herself.

There was a pause. No adjective fought in Hermione's mind, none of them worked.

'What's it like being a metamorphmagus?' The question hung in the air for a second as a frown creased Tonks' brow. She was sure she had never mentioned it to Hermione. She shrugged off the doubt.

'Oh it's great. I didn't have to study at all for half the auror training, and it means I never have to bother with bad hair days.' She grinned a little. 'Plus, you can find out all sorts of things when you're in disguise.'

Hermione looked up to meet Tonks' eyes. She knew Tonks hadn't caught her out – they had never met before today. But Tonks' last comment had made her wonder whether anyone could really be trusted – especially this mysterious woman with the violet hair. You only know someone by appearance, after all.

Hermione faked a carefree laugh, lips closing quickly as to not let Tonks catch a glimpse of the little fairy with the sign saying 'lies' round her neck. Then she broke the eye contact and turned to get into bed.

'Sleeping so soon Hermione? I thought there might be a little rebellious side to you under all the Goblin history.' The inner Hermione's eyes widened, on the surface she merely gave a sarcastic smile.

'You'd be surprised.'


	4. Bitter

Hermione turned to face the wall. Tonks, sitting on the other bed on the other side of the room, raised an eyebrow and then turned to the little purple book that Hermione's fingers had graced only a few hours ago. Hermione listened as the scratching of a quill began to fill the room. She rolled her eyes at the wall next to her. It wasn't that she wanted to sleep. It was that she wanted... oh who was she kidding? Hermione Granger had absolutely no idea what she wanted anymore.

Under the duvet, Hermione scratched at her wrist without thinking. There was this – she searched for some kind of description for what _this_ was and found none – and then there was the fact she hadn't finished a very long winded conclusion for her potions essay. And then there was Harry.

What to do about Harry? Hermione fought hard not to just sit up and scream into her hands. Why? Why was he so convinced that he loved Draco? She bit her lip agitatedly. It was never going to happen, it could only end in tears and Harry didn't need any more trouble. Except he wouldn't listen, to her or to Ron, and that was another thing, Ron clearly wasn't comfortable with it, she didn't see why Harry had to let Ron in on his little problem too. She rolled her eyes again, and clenched her fist into her wrist. Five red indents appeared on her white forearm. She didn't care. They'd fade.

The scratching stopped.

Hermione stopped, looking for an explanation for the sudden silence. She turned round. Tonks was staring straight at her. Hermione looked her in the eye for a second before she hurriedly looked back down at the page she was writing on in a surprisingly neat hand, colour flushing her cheeks.

Hermione was well trained in pretending not to feel, but even she couldn't deny that she found Tonks a little attractive in her state of silent embarrassment. She sat up.

'Tonks?'

'Mmhmm...?' Tonks didn't look up from her scribbling.

'Why aren't you and Remus together?'

Tonks froze, the silence spilling from her quill.

'What makes you say that?' she asked sharply. Inside, Hermione gave a sardonic smile.

'Because. You and him, you're like meant to be together.' She managed a carefree tone, a girly gossip-y tone. She hid the bitter inside of the chocolate. Tonks laughed, and it was nowhere near carefree.

'No, we're not.' She sighed. She opened her lips, as if to explain, but then closed them again.

'He likes you.'

'Yes.'

'And you like him.'

Silence. Hermione knew then why they weren't together. Tonks looked down, uncomfortably.

'Tonks, it's okay. You don't always have to fall in love with those who love you.' Hermione's tone turned bitter. 'It doesn't work like that.'

Hermione ran her fingers over the slowly fading dents in her forearm. No. It didn't work like that. You can love someone and love them and it will be painful through and through because that's how it works. Yes. That's how it works.

Tonks closed the book and replaced it on the table. She glanced at the clock. Hermione turned back over to face the wall as Tonks climbed into her own bed.

'Night, Hermione.'

She got no reply.


	5. Irrational

Hermione woke with a start.

She rolled over and sat up. Across the room, Tonks' bed lay empty, the duvet left in a strangled mess upon the floor.

Panic struggled in her ribcage. She blinked, unsure of what to do. _Calm down_, she told herself, _she could just be in the bathroom or something. _Quietly as she could, Hermione forced herself out of bed and padded across the bedroom to the door. Wincing as the door creaked under her fingertips, she let a small beam of light enter the room before slipping through the gap.

She tiptoed across to the bathroom. The light was off, the door was slightly ajar, and it was perfectly empty. Hermione caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the grinning mirror opposite her. Cold, denying eyes stared back – searching for something she didn't want to find.

She didn't know what to do. Tonks was missing. Hermione didn't know quite how to explain the feeling of dread that was rising inside her – it was clear Tonks had left of her own accord, so why did Hermione feel like she was falling?

She shook off the feeling, and begun to navigate her way to the stairs. She grimaced with every step, praying no sound would wake up any of the Weasleys or the Order. What she didn't need was someone discovering her wandering around at midnight with the excuse of 'looking for Tonks'.

She reached the stairs. Slowly she took each stair, _don't creak, don't creak_, and with every stair she took another step towards that ominous feeling that she couldn't quite get rid of. The ominous feeling that was not Tonks but that was Tonks not being here. Hermione's heartbeat rose.

Why was she up in the middle of the night looking for this woman?

She knew the answer. She knew but she didn't want to, she was afraid that this could be something more than curiosity and she didn't know what to do or who to tell or anything. For once, Hermione Granger didn't know something and she was terrified.

She stumbled. Fingers scrabbled at the banister, but her they slipped and she fell the way Tonks had done just this morning. The stairs didn't just creak, they screamed. Hermione's surprised cry added a harmony to the groans. Inevitably, Mrs Black followed suit.

'Filthy mudbloods, disgracing the name of black...'

At the bottom of the stairs, Hermione closed her eyes in surrender. She had failed. It was all over now. Thoughts spun round her head like cartoon stars, and through the mess of feelings and empty dreams she heard a door slam. And then she heard voices.

She fought the darkness, fought her way back onto her feet and strained her ears to hear what was going on downstairs. Questions, lots of them. The voice sounded male, young, angry. 

Hermione was too shocked to piece things together, and she could do nothing but stand, shaking, at the bottom of the staircase, listening to things she shouldn't and waiting for someone she didn't want to see.

Footsteps.

Hermione panicked. _Get back upstairs_, she told herself, _go._ She turned to run back up the stairs, not wanting anyone to think the disturbances ricocheting round the hallway were due to anything but the door slamming, but was stopped in her tracks by a voice behind her.

"Hermione?"

She knew exactly who it was. The person she both wanted and couldn't bear to see. She turned back to face the woman.

"What are you doing?" A now pink-haired Tonks asked, frowning.

Hermione hesitated. She was a good liar but she chose, for once, to tell the truth.

"I... I was looking for you."

Something flickered in the back of Tonks' eyes.

"Hermione..." she whispered. The distance between the women seemed to shrink as intensity rose like flames in the space dividing them. It was then that Tonks did something both extremely irrational and extremely brave.

She pulled Hermione into a kiss, right there on the landing. For several seconds, all that sounded was silence.

It was Hermione who pulled away, confusion and regret written all over her face. The two women looked at each other. A movement to Hermione's right made her glance, afraid, in the direction of the other staircase.

Her eyes widened as Harry looked back at her.

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**A/N – I know, finally something has happened of value! I apologize for the slow pace of this story but if you didn't already guess, I much prefer oneshots (with adequately disturbing pairings!). Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing & adding me to story alerts etc. Reviews would make my day! **

**Bee xx**


	6. Nothing

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, perplexed.

_Stupid question_, thought Hermione. _Really stupid question._

"Nothing."

_Stupid answer, really, really stupid answer, _she thought. She saw Tonks look away. It was obvious what they had been doing, and it was obvious that it was not 'nothing'.

Hermione could see the anger rising in Harry's eyes.

"Hermione... I saw you. I _saw _you! Why does everyone have to _lie _to me? Just... tell me the truth. Please. "

Tonks could see Hermione thinking, calculating the best answer, as fast as she could. She couldn't deny that seeing Hermione so flustered, so lost, was a little attractive.

The silence was almost unbearable.

"Hermione and I need to talk, Harry, we'll speak to you in the morning."

With that, she nudged Hermione towards the stairs and followed her up – leaving Harry looking confused and agitated, alone, at the bottom of the staircase.

As Tonks followed Hermione into their bedroom, she shut the door behind them and sat on her bed, across from the woman she couldn't deny she was falling for. Hermione said nothing, merely looked with slightly watery eyes at her feet.

"Hermione?"

Silence.

"Hermione."

Silence.

"_Hermione_."

"I don't want to speak to you."

Tonks paused before tentatively asking, "Why?"

Hermione sniffed. "Because. Because you... you-" A tear rolled down her cheek.

"I showed you that I loved you."

There was a pause.

"You don't love me," Hermione muttered, with such defiance and conviction that Tonks felt her own eyes prick a little. She wanted to brush the tear from Hermione's cheek, to put her arm round her, to comfort her, but she didn't. She couldn't. It would only make the situation worse. Hermione stared at the ground relentlessly, refusing to look at Tonks. As if she were afraid of what she might see reflected in those eyes...

"I kissed you because I think I have feelings for you," Tonks said flatly, "And I was caught in the moment, and I thought you-"

Hermione looked up, her eyes flaring. "I'm not gay, Tonks! Stop it. You're trying to make me think I'm something I'm not, you're trying..." She broke down into sobs.

Tonks got up from her bed and made her way across to Hermione's. She sat, a little distance between them, the empty space aching. She sat uncomfortably for a minute, as Hermione hid her face in her hands and shook, before sliding her arm around her waist and nudging Hermione's head onto her shoulder.

Tonks stroked Hermione's hair, unsure of what to say. She could feel a tear running down her neck. Hermione looked up at the woman who threatened to destroy all she had worked towards, all the barriers against emotion she had sought so hard to preserve.

Tonks lent towards Hermione. She pulled away.

"No."

"Hermione..."

"No, Tonks. This isn't happening." She stood up and turned away, her back to the now bubblegum-haired woman who had managed to create a hurricane around her heart.

"I can't do this Tonks," she whispered. "I just can't..."

Tonks looked at the floor, and nodded.

"Fine."

* * *

**A/N – Sorry for the delay with this chapter (: hope you like it all the same.**


	7. Senseless

It was predictably awkward the next morning. Hermione wouldn't look at Tonks when she thought Tonks might be looking at her, which was often as Tonks insistently shot her wistful looks from across the room. In fact, perhaps wistful was not the right way to describe it – it was perhaps nearer, Hermione thought, to that kind of wistful sadness more commonly described as...

No. It was not that four letter word that she vowed she would never ever think of when Tonks might be even lurking in the shadows of her mind. It was not. She would not let it be.

And yet...

Hermione excused herself from the breakfast table and went back upstairs. She didn't want to go back to _that room_ but there was no place else she could go without one of the many Weasleys, or even Harry – she was avoiding him – tracking her down. She shut the door and lay down on her bed. Her head hurt. She stared at the ceiling and for once she let all that hurt and all that sadness flow through into the pupils of her eyes.

Hermione Granger, however much she chose to deny it, was quite obviously falling in love. And as she lay there, Tonks' empty bed lying opposite, she felt the boundaries of defiance wearing away. As she lay there she found that love had got the better of her.

She closed her eyes, as if in resignation and suddenly picked up her pillow and flung it across the room. It bounced off the wall beside Tonks' bed and fell deadened onto it, a victim of that love/hate emotion that has no name. And then Hermione, as if shaken by this near-violence, burst into tears.

It was all very strange, Tonks thought, standing on the other side of the door and watching through the crack. She leant forward a little.

There was a sort of scream-startled-cry-like sound and the sound of a body falling to the floor. Hermione, lost in a world of silent tears, jerked back to reality. Safety had left her in every dimension. She frowned and walked towards the door, suspecting already what she might see. She pulled the door open, and her suspicions were confirmed.

She closed her eyes and exhaled. Her tears, still damp, began to dry up a little on her cheeks. Beyond her, if only a little, Tonks pulled herself to her feet and looked guiltily at Hermione. Her eyes said _sorry_ in a thousand different tones.

There was that moment, as there always is, when two people just stand and look at each other.

And then there was that moment, as there always should be, where one pulls the other into that kind of kiss. The kind which says _Yes No Maybe _all at once, which cares nothing for the world and nothing for questions. The kind that only makes sense sometimes. It made sense then.

The moment was completely illogical. Roles were reversed. Stars shifted. It was Hermione who moved in and it was Tonks who pulled away. There was that look again. The _what are you doing _look. The one Hermione gave Tonks gave Hermione.

Tonks pulled away as if to say _stop_. As if to say, this doesn't make sense. There was another look, another silence. And then she moved back in as if to say _screw sense. _As if to stick her middle finger up to the laws of physics and God and gravity because right now they were flying and they were weightless and it was real. And it was not possible and yet, it was.

The fire of the moment lasted for what seemed like hours. The ice upon the wound came in the form of Sirius Black.

'Hermione?'

Hermione jerked her head away from Tonks to look over the other woman's shoulder. She knew exactly what it looked like – she with her back against the wall and Tonks pressed up against her front. Tonks looked round.

'Tonks?' Sirius said, incredulously. 'What the hell is going on?'

Tonks released Hermione and turned to face Sirius.

'In there. Now,' she said, gesturing to the open door of her and Hermione's bedroom. As Sirius walked through the doorway Tonks whispered in Hermione's ear, 'Don't be afraid.'

Hermione said nothing. She didn't see how she could not be afraid. She didn't understand.

* * *

**I know. It's been months. I lost inspiration with this fic and the longer I left it the harder it was to update. Don't shoot me. I'm sorry. I promise I will update more regularly now. Really! Anyway, don't flame me because I'm lazy ): but please tell me how you like it etc etc. **

**Also, big thanks to Emeloo2 who PMed me asking me to update (I read that about an hour ago and thought, right let's do it!) and also to Ashara and Emma who also nagged me quite a lot (and will do I guess, even though I don't think they're too keen on my odd pairings).**

**Bee (:**


	8. Ending?

As Tonks turned and followed Sirius into the bedroom, Hermione remained frozen, lost and confused, in the hallway.

_What did I just do?_ _What is going on? Why? _

There were hundreds of unanswered questions in her mind, none of which seemed to be solved without creating another few hundred in the process. She absent-mindedly jabbed a nail into her forearm. _Stupid, stupid girl, _she thought. _Why did you do it? It was stupid. Really, really stupid._

A voice in her mind said But. She drowned it out. She did not like the word 'but'.

She pulled herself together and made her way into the bedroom. She pushed the door open and the sight of a livid Tonks, her wand pointed at Sirius' throat, and a scared-looking Sirius greeted her. The two stared at her, frozen, as the anger of the moment stilled and subsided. Tonks let her arm fall from Sirius' neck.

'One word and I'll do it,' she hissed. She glared at Sirius for a moment and stormed from the room, burning.

Sirius and Hermione looked at each other. The silence was uncomfortable. Hermione coughed and Sirius turned and walked out himself. The anger was left in the room, growing stale, with Hermione standing there feeling like the world was collapsing around her.

She did not have time to think about this. Someone above her began to shout. She jumped a little, thinking it was Sirius and involuntarily letting her mind jump to Tonks. She listened harder. Harry's voice seeped through the ceiling.

'So you haven't been in the meetings, big deal! You've still been here, haven't you? You've still been together! Four weeks I've been stuck in Privet Drive, nicking papers out of bins trying to find out what's been going on!'

Hermione rolled her eyes. It would be her he fell back on. Just wait, she thought. He'll come crying to me as soon as he's finished.

The slamming of a door. Thud thud thud. The thwack of a foot kicking a coat stand. The screams of Mrs Black.

'Hermione?' Harry's face peered round the door.

She rolled her eyes again. She knew it.

'Come in,' she sighed. 'Shut the door.'

'Hermione, why is everyone lying to me?'

'They're not.'

'You are.'

'What?'

'You didn't tell me you were...'

'I'm not.'

'Liar.'

'It was just a kiss.'

'Just a kiss?'

'Yes.'

'It didn't look like _just a kiss_ to me.'

'Why?'

Harry stared at her as if she was crazy.

'Because she is so obviously in love with you!'

Hermione stared, alarmed somewhat. 'What?'

'The way she looks at you...' Harry tailed off. His voice was almost wistful, but Hermione couldn't see why he would be.

'I've only known her a few days...'

'And?'

Hermione paused, the word slithering like ink on her palms. _And? _

'Harry.'

'What?'

'Harry, you don't understand... you don't-'

'What? I don't what? Know?' He paused. 'Why won't you listen? Why won't anyone listen?'

'I'm listening Harry, but-'

'But what, Hermione?'

Her voice grew helpless. 'But I don't understand. I don't know what's going on. I think...'

'Think what?' Harry said, his voice slightly more tender, less aggressive.

A tear rolled down Hermione's cheek.

'I think I'll end up falling for her if I don't end it now.'

* * *

**Yes, I updated again! See what I did instead of listening to my English teacher, just for you? If I fail English, it's only because I love you guys.**

**Hope you enjoyed it!**

**Bee xx**


	9. Confessions

Harry looked unsure of what to do. Hug her? Tell her everything would be okay?

Both of these things would have been sensible actions to take in that situation. But of course, Harry did neither of these things.

'Hermione, I'm not in love with Draco.'

Hermione looked up, startled by this sudden confession.

'Um… okay.'

'I only said that because…'

Hermione waited.

'I only said that because I wanted you to think I trusted you so that maybe you would trust me.'

Hermione frowned.

'You lied so that I would tell you my secrets?'

'Well…' Harry looked uncomfortable, as if this was not exactly the whole truth.

'What is it, Harry?'

He paused and looked down at the floor.

'It doesn't matter,' he said, shaking his head a little. 'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied.'

Hermione wondered whether to force the truth out of him or whether just to let it pass. She opted for the second option. There was enough complicity in her life as it was.

'It's okay Harry. We all have our secrets,' she said with a smile. 'And I'm sorry if I lied to you. I don't mean to hurt anyone but…'

She left the sentence hanging. Harry smiled at her, again with that almost wistful, melancholy hint lurking behind his eyes that Hermione couldn't quite name. The conversation reached its natural close. Harry stood up and opened the door.

'See you later, 'Mione.'

Hermione smiled without really meaning it.

* * *

**I know this chapter is short, that's why I'm going to upload the next one today too – it just seemed like it needed a chapter break here really.**

**Hope you like.**


	10. Gone

Tonks had gone. Order work, Hermione supposed. She could hardly enquire as to her whereabouts without arousing suspicion. It would, undoubtedly, reach Sirius' ears and Hermione knew it was Tonks who had silenced him, not her. Whatever the threat was, Hermione did not know it. Sirius was still a threat to her, when Tonks was guarding secrets deep in the Department of Mysteries. Harry had been silenced. Sirius, to her, had not.

It worried her. In fact, that was probably an understatement. She felt her blood pumping faster when Sirius was around. Afraid of what he might say to others, yes, but afraid more so of what he might say to her.

What did he think of her? Words, labels flew round her head thumping like a heartbeat. She hated being near him, seeing it in his eyes, seeing the words _I know, I saw you _flash over and over again.

She had no-one.

Harry would not help her. For all his sweet little confessions she still would never trust him. He had no hold over emotion. He would spill her secrets without thinking and already he knew far, far too much.

She would not enlighten any other into her… her what? _Relationship? _Oh no, Hermione thought. We are not going there. Begin again, she thought. She would not enlighten anyone else as to her current _situation _with Tonks. Better, she thought. Much better.

Telling someone was out of the question, those who knew she would not go to. Tonks herself… Hermione was unwilling to delve into that mine of uncertainty. For the odd precious stone there was too much darkness.

_And yet_, she thought, _the conversation's going to have to happen someday. Someday, we are going to have to sort this whole thing out._

'Oi, Hermione!'

Ron's careless voice entered her thoughts. She felt the jolting sensation of being lifted from a dream, or perhaps a nightmare.

'Wanna play?' he asked, holding out a deck of cards.

Hermione seemed flustered, 'Oh, um, no thanks, I'm fine.'

'Awh, come on Hermione,' the twins chorused, 'Don't be such a killjoy.'

'No really, I'm fine,' she said.

'It's not like you're doing anything better,' Ron pleaded. 'What are you thinking about, house elves or something?'

'Ronald! I am perfectly entitled to think about what I like, thank you very much.'

'So it _was _about house elves.'

'I didn't say that.'

'So what were you thinking about then?'

'Nothing.'

'Which translates as, _someone I fancy but I'm not going to tell you_,' Fred said, raising his eyebrows at George.

'I never said that either,' Hermione said, hiding any flicker of panic.

'Yeah but you _thought_ it, Hermy,' said George.

'Who is it then?' Fred asked as Ron looked on with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety.

'Stop it. This is ridiculous.'

'Who? Who?' the twins began to chant.

'Fred! George!' Hermione exclaimed, raising her voice over the chanting. They grew louder in retaliation. Ron began to join in.

'Who? Who is it Hermione? Who do you luurrrvveee?'

Hermione snapped.

'WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP ACTING LIKE FIVE YEAR OLDS AND START ACTING YOUR AGE?' she screamed, grabbing the cards from Ron's hands and hurling them across the room where they splayed out across the floor.

They stopped. Everything froze.

Hermione glared at them for a moment, and stormed out of the room.

'Jeez,' Ron said. Fred whistled.

'What's up with her?'

The boys looked up to see Charlie standing in the doorway.

'Oh, I think she's a little stressed,' Fred replied, eyebrows raised.

'Well, Mum says lunch's ready,' Charlie said.

They got up from the floor and shook off the odd card from their clothes.

When they reached the lunch table Hermione was nowhere to be seen.


	11. Drunk

Not a word passed between Tonks and Hermione for around about a week. Hermione continued to block out the voices and screams in her mind, and Tonks seemed to spend more time away from Grimmauld Place than in it. The bed opposite Hermione's stayed empty.

And then suddenly it was her last evening in Grimmauld Place and she felt strangely empty, as if something was slipping away from her. Darkness fell, they retreated to bed. And at two am Hermione was still wide awake, cursing herself for her insomnia.

_This is all your fault.  
This is all her fault.  
This is all our fault?  
Theirs?_

She played with pronouns in her head, a less logical way of counting sheep. Words turned over in her mind, backwards, upside down, some capitalised themselves – LOVE HATE SILENCE and some faded away, or fell.

_This is ridiculous_ she thought as beside her the clock flashed two thirty. She ripped the dishevelled cover from the bed and forced herself up. She crept downstairs. _Memories, _she thought as her hand ran down the banister.

When she reached the kitchen she didn't bother to turn on the light – she knew what she was looking for. She'd been wondering all week whether it would lift the darkness somehow. She opened a cupboard, ran her finger along the contents and stopped. Her hand wrapped round the neck of a bottle of firewhisky. With an element of rebellion, of determination, she opened it and began to take large gulps of the stuff, letting it burn her throat until her eyes watered. She held the bottle up - she had emptied around a third of it already. She didn't look guilty. She didn't feel guilty. For once, appearance matched reality.

She pulled back a chair and sat at the table, swigging the stuff every few minutes. She felt warmer. Wallowing in her misery seemed almost pleasurable now. Feeling consciousness slip away just a little, feeling the tide of pain start to roll back its frontiers, she loosened up, relaxed. She smiled. It was a strange feeling.

Hermione was getting steadily more drunk as the clock ticked by the seconds – three o'clock, three thirty… and then at four am the door opened and Hermione jumped and spilled a little of her second bottle. She didn't think to hide herself, to go upstairs, to get rid of the bottles. Instead, in her drunken state, she sat and thought nothing, just airy-fairy very un-Hermioneish thoughts, and merely looked vaguely surprised as a brown haired woman stumbled into the kitchen and looked suspiciously at her.

'Hermione?'

'Yeah…' she said, gazing at the woman, trying to remember.

'What are you doing?' the woman said, incredulously.

'Just… I dunno…'

'You're not _drunk?_' the woman said, her eyes widening.

'No…'

The woman eyed up the empty bottles on the table in front of her, and laughed sardonically.

'Sure…' she said, raising her eyebrows.

'I'm not!' Hermione exclaimed. 'Hang on… do I know you?'

The woman laughed.

'You don't recognize me – logic tells you no.'

Hermione just looked bemused. 'What's your name?'

'Er… Jenna.'

'Are you like, an auror or something?'

'Um… yes.'

'Oh right. So wait… what are you doing here at four am?'

'I could ask you the same question.'

'I'm wallowing in my misery, I have every reason to be down here drinking.'

'Why misery?'

'It's a long story.'

'Go on.'

'I don't know,' said Hermione, shaking her head a little.

'Is this a boy thing?'

Hermione laughed sardonically. 'Not exactly,' she said.

'Oh, I get you.'

'Yeah… she's just this woman and it's all just a mess. I don't know. I have to leave tomorrow and then that's it, y'know. And we never sorted it all out…'

'Maybe that's better.'

Hermione stared blankly. 'I suppose it's all just a bit of a fling really. It's not like it was ever going to get serious…'

'Why not?'

'Just because.'

'Just because, as in, I don't really have a reason?'

'No… just because as in the age difference and the fact she's a she and the fact she doesn't even know what she's doing and she doesn't give a fuck about what she's doing to me…'

The woman, now sitting opposite her, winced.

'Maybe she's just afraid to admit what she wants. In case you don't feel the same.'

Hermione just laughed and said, 'Chance would be a fine thing.'

'You seem to have sobered up a little.'

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled a little. The woman sighed.

'I'm sorry about this, Hermione,' she said. An expression of pain suddenly conquered her face, as it began to morph back into one familiar to Hermione. Pink hair and a cheeky smile suddenly frequented Hermione's consciousness.

'Tonks?'

'Guilty.'

'Damn.'

Tonks burst out laughing. 'You know, Hermione, you're really out of character when you're drunk,' she said.

'Or when I'm kissing you,' Hermione retorted.

What happened next was predictable. Hermione was still drunk, Tonks was still in love – and the two of them found themselves kissing. Memories, memories. It was all repetition. And yet they didn't care. _Caught in the moment. _They were caught, indefinitely, by the moment, with the moment, in the moment. Between time and space, outside of it. They didn't care. The moment – what does the moment hold? For them, nothing. Nothing but one another and love and careless, beautiful laughter.

Tonks pulled away. The clock flashed four thirty.

'We need to talk.'


	12. Misunderstandings

Hermione sighed.

'Can we not do this when I'm not tipsy?'

'No.'

'Please…' Hermione begged, wrapping her arms round Tonks' neck and moving in towards her again. Tonks grabbed her wrists.

'No, Hermione. You have to leave tomorrow. I don't want you to go back to Hogwarts without anyone to talk to, without getting things straight.'

'Nothing about this will ever be straight,' Hermione sighed, smiling a little flirtily.

Tonks' lips twitched. Hermione was way more fun when she loosened up a little. She sat down, Hermione followed her lead.

'Drink?' she asked, smirking as she held out a bottle.

Tonks took it with the vague thought that this might be easier with some fire in her gut. Not that Hermione herself wasn't already causing her to burn up inside.

'Listen, this is hard for both of us,' Tonks said.

'Yeah, it's obviously hard for you messing around with schoolgirls, making them fall madly in love with you and then fucking up their lives,' Hermione said bitterly.

Tonks looked at her incredulously.

'Is that really what you think?'

Hermione said nothing, merely raised her eyebrows and looked away.

'You honestly think I'm just 'messing around' here, like I do this all the time, just for some screwed up sadistic fun or something? Really?'

Hermione again said nothing. The silence said it all.

Tonks got up in disgust.

'I can't believe you,' she said, and without even a glance back at Hermione's breaking face she left the kitchen, slamming the door.

Empty bottles littered the table. Hermione stared at the place where Tonks' back had been, utterly dumbstruck. She let her head fall onto the table in defeat for a moment, before she swept the bottles into the bin and got up to follow, muttering under her breath.

'Completely unjustified… she wanted to talk… perfectly plausible… honestly…'

She made to open the door, but as she grabbed the knob it opened without her touch. Hermione's first thought was that it was Tonks, back to fight and/or apologize. But Hermione was greeted not with Tonks' face as the door opened, but Fred Weasley's.

'Hermione?' he said, frowning a little incredulously.

'Um,' she said anxiously. 'Hi?'

'Was it you who slammed that door?' he said, almost mockingly as if he knew something she didn't.

'Er, no.'

'Because it woke me up.'

'That was just Tonks. You know what she's like.'

'What were you and Tonks doing in the kitchen at,' he checked his watch, 'four in the morning?' He smiled suggestively.

Hermione's cheeks flushed. 'We were just talking.'

'Sure. Are you _blushing?_'

Hermione's eyes widened as she felt her cheek with the palm of her hand.

'Shit.' The profanity caused Fred to raise his eyebrows.

'Wait…' he said, eyeing up the kitchen and the pile of empty bottles in the bin. 'Have you been _drinking?_'

Hermione rolled her eyes.

'Fred, please, I'm tired, can I just go to bed please?'

He laughed. 'You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's been going on here.'

'Fred…' she said in a warning voice.

'Come on. You know you wanna tell.'

'I think you'll find no, actually, I don't. Now would you please just let me out?'

'Is something going on with you and Tonks?' he asked.

'No.'

'Liar.'

'There's not!'

'So then why did she just storm past me with tears in her eyes and scream at me to tell you she only did it because she fucking loves you?'

Hermione stopped struggling to get past Fred's arm blocking the door. She stared at him, her eyes saying _What?. _He just looked at her as if to say, _nothing's going on? Mhmm._

Hermione backed away from the door.

'Oh god,' she whispered as she collapsed into a chair and raked her fingers through her hair.

And then, behind Fred she saw a flash of pink hair and Tonks standing, teary-eyed, biting her lip. Staring at her as if to say, I'm sorry.


End file.
